Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had?
by siDEADde
Summary: "Jane?" Normally the doctor wouldn't bother trying to talk to her friend with the game on TV. On the rare occasion that she would make an attempt, Jane would feign interest between swigs of beer, making eye-contact only during commercials, and Maura would end up having to repeat the entire conversation after SportsCenter. But something is different...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Written for an anonymous prompt on tumblr. This piece will have 5 chapters.**

**A big THANK YOU to socks-lost for her help and encouragement!**

"Jane?"

Normally the doctor wouldn't bother trying to talk to her friend with the game on TV. On the rare occasion that she would make an attempt, Jane would feign interest between swigs of beer, making eye-contact only during commercials, and Maura would end up having to repeat the entire conversation after SportsCenter. But something is different. It is the uncertainty in Maura's voice that drags Jane's eyes from her beloved Sox.

"I was wondering…"

Jane, bottle still resting against her lips, watches as Maura spins the large onyx ring around the finger on her right hand, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"You don't ever _wonder, _Maur." Jane raises an eyebrow and finishes off the rest of the beer before pushing herself up off of the couch and over to her friend. "Spit it out."

"I need someone to go with me to the hospital tomorrow for the procedure—." The detective cuts her off before she can finish.

"Oh come on, Maura. You said you had everything lined up." Jane throws her bottle into its designated bin. She isn't happy that her friend has agreed to donate her kidney. She knows that Hope is taking advantage of Maura's sweet nature and that Cailin is an ungrateful brat whose disposition will not improve with the addition of her selfless sister's kidney. Jane is finding it hard to be supportive of a choice that is going to do nothing but hurt Maura, both physically and emotionally. The doctor has noticed and has gone to all her consultations and pre-op visits alone.

Maura continues to fidget with her ring, around and around it goes. Jane watches as she goes from fidget to full-blown pace and then words start falling from her faster than the blond can censor them.

"They won't do the procedure if I don't have someone accompany me to the hospital. I asked your mother, but she's babysitting TJ. Frankie, Frost and Senior Criminalist Chang all have to work. Korsak has some event lined up at the animal shelter." Jane's eyes widen and she feels her stomach sink as the blond stops pacing to tick the list of names off on her fingers. "Tommy isn't allowed to drive unless it is to or from work. Lydia's car is in the shop and my insurance won't cover her driving mine." Her voice tapers off, but she squares her shoulders as she meets Jane's eyes.

"You don't have to approve, Jane. I just need someone there to get recovery instructions and to make any decisions in case I can't."

"Wait, make any decisions if you can't?" Jane's hands are both waving as hard as she is shaking her head. "I don't even want to know what that will entail."

"Well, in the unlikely event that something goes wro—."

"STOP! LALALALAAALAAAA" The detective mashes her hands against her ears and closes her eyes. "I said I didn't want to know." She opens one eye to see Maura looking back at her expectantly, a ribbon of hope twisting through her eyes.

"God, fine. I'll take you." As the words leave her lips she is overwhelmed by an armful of bouncing, happy doctor. She smiles and allows herself a moment to relax into Maura's arms, surrounding herself in the smell of the doctor's shampoo and perfume.

As if Jane would ever refuse her. Maura isn't aware that she need only ask and Jane will do her best to deliver. The gruff bitching and moaning is a front; Jane is all about keeping up appearances. She's surprised her best friend hasn't caught on yet, especially since Jane knows everyone else has noticed. They never cease to give her shit about being whipped.

The detective moves to step out of the embrace, but Maura doesn't let go. Her chin rests on Jane's shoulder but she tilts her head to rest it against Jane's.

"Thank you." The words are so quiet that Jane feels more than hears them. She wraps her arms back around Maura and squeezes.

"You know Maur, I read somewhere that hugs that last longer than three seconds are considered creepy." She gently squeezes the doctor again while she talks to let her know that this 9-going-on-ten second hug is still quite alright.

Maura pulls away, sniffling a bit, but catches Jane's hands before the detective can shove them into her pockets. Hazel eyes shine, so intensely earnest that Jane almost has to look away in order to start her heart beating again. "Really Jane, I mean it. I know you're really unhappy with me. I just don't have anyone else to ask."

The detective cringes internally. _Of course_ Maura has interpreted Jane's disapproval and general crankiness as displeasure with the doctor, but she couldn't be further from the truth. Jane wants to rail at Constance for creating these insecurities in her best friend, at Hope for deigning to ask for the donation, and at herself for being a general asshole. Jane cannot think of a single moment when she has ever been angry at Maura. Even during their epic fight she was more hurt than pissed.

"I'm not unhappy with you. I'm unhappy with Hope for putting you in this position and unhappy with your jerk half-sister for being a jerk." Jane squeezes Maura's hands then pulls the doctor up against her side and slips her arm around Maura's shoulders. "Come on, let's go get an early dinner. I'm picking the movie tonight and I want to see it all before I nod off and end up sleeping on your couch again."

Maura just nods and smiles. Jane doesn't know Maura slept on the couch last Friday as well, curled up under the detective's arm like she is now. She just woke up early enough to change and pretend that she spent the night comfortably curled under her fluffy duvet, hiding the crick in her neck as Jane complained about an unusually stiff shoulder. The smile stays on her face all the way to the restaurant.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for your views and reviews! And to Guest, incendioverum, happy Anon, and Henry...I'm sorry I couldn't reply personally to your reviews, but I really appreciate each and every one. **

For what has to be the thousandth time, Jane looks down at the number in her hand and then back up at the electronic information board in front of her. It shows Maura's number, 472, is in recovery, as it has been for the past 15 minutes. She remembers being told that a nurse-liaison would be up to get her once Maura was in recovery. What was taking them so long? Could recovery be a code word for something's-all-jacked-up? Jane actually considers using her badge to get information when a young redhead approaches.

"Excuse me, Ms. Rizzoli?"

Jane just stares, sure that this serious-faced _child_ was sent to deliver bad news. Obviously no one would lash out at this little thing in anger and grief. Her hands clench into fists as she debates proving them wrong.

The woman eyes Jane's hands and hesitates. "Are you Ms. Jane Rizzoli, ma'am?" She looks worried now and Jane's heart starts to thud in her chest and she feels all the color wash from her face. "Ma'am? Are you alright?"

"How old are you?" The words are out before Jane can stop them and she understands how Maura must feel, for just a moment, when she blurts facts and figures without a thought. _Maura_. "Wait, ignore that. Yes, yes, I'm Jane Rizzoli." The detective shakes her head and shoves a hand in her wayward hair. "How is she?"

The young woman smiles gently and puts her hand on Jane's arm. "She's fine. Follow me and you can see her."

Jane takes a deep breath and does as she is told, trying in vain to swallow down another wave of anxiety. When she is brought to the doctor's bedside, she is struck at just how _tiny_ Maura looks, how vulnerable, in the large railed bed. She puts her hand over Maura's on top of the white sheet and is taken aback by the corpse-like chill of the doctor's skin. Angry red flashes in front of her eyes. They are supposed to be taking _care_ of Maura, and _she_ is supposed to ensure it.

"She's freezing." Jane barks at the nurse sitting next to the bed watching the monitors.

"It's cold in the recovery room, dear. It helps the patients wake up." The nurse doesn't bother to turn around as she answers, so she misses the death-glare Jane levels at her for her dismissive tone. "She's woken up already, but she'll drift in and out for a bit here from the anesthesia and pain medications. Go ahead and talk to her. That'll help her come around and then we can move her upstairs."

The detective rolls her eyes when it becomes clear that the nurse isn't going to succumb to her wrathful gaze. The nurse will be handled later, once Jane is sure that Maura is fine. _Talk to her. _She clears her throat as she ponders what she'll say to fill the silence normally filled by Talking Google. Reaching with one hand to gently tuck an errant strand of hair behind the doctor's ear, she brings her other hand up to take Maura's then sandwich it between her own, rubbing it softy in an attempt to warm the chilled fingers.

"Hey, Maur, how are you feeling?"

The doctor's eyelids flutter open as she tries to focus on the woman at her side. Jane can't stop her grin at Maura's confused blinking and tongue-tied attempt at a response. Maura tries again, shifting in the bed. A wave of pain crosses her face from the movement. She clutches at Jane's hand and shakes her head.

"She's hurting. Can't you give her something?" Jane's eyes flick from the squawking monitor to Maura's clenched jaw. There's nothing she hates more than feeling useless, and right now there is nothing a badge or a gun can do. The instinct to comfort compels her to bend over the bedrail and press a soft kiss to Maura's temple. "Hold on sweetie, the nurse will get you something for the pain."

The nurse turns to the detective and seeing her distress plus Maura's frown, nods and moves to push something into the IV. "Don't worry, hon. She's not going to remember most of her time down here anyway." The older woman smiles broadly and winks at Jane. "Now would be the best time to ask her for things; under those drugs she'll agree to just about anything. Did you bring the ring? I can witness for you, dear."

Jane stares for a flabbergasted second, jaw hanging, as she tries to process what was just said. "What?" It's all she can muster on such short notice. "No, wait. We're just friends. I'm her emergency contact. She said she needed one to have the surgery and even though I didn't think she should have done it –"

The nurse just cocks an eyebrow at the fumbling detective, cutting her off with a raised hand. "Well, I don't think your," the woman's fingers fly up in the most exaggerated set of air-quotes Jane has ever seen, "FRIEND is aware that you both are just friends. She's been talking about you off and on since they brought her here. You're Janie, yes?"

"Jane." The detective corrects as she stands up and frees a hand to offer to the nurse, she then promptly drops it when the woman motions to her gloved hands. "Jane Rizzoli. Maura doesn't call me Janie."

The nurse shakes her head as she turns back to the monitor, "_This _Maura does. According to her, she _loves_ Janie even though she knows that Janie doesn't _love_ her. _This _Maura is worried that Janie won't respect her anymore, and that she'll lose her, and she wouldn't know what to do with herself if that happened." The older woman looks over her shoulder, daring Jane to refute anything she has said, then smirks when Jane does nothing but gape.

"You look like a goldfish, dear." The nurse tips her head forward to peek at Jane over half-moon reading glasses and Jane snaps her mouth shut, unable to summon any sarcastic wit or previous anger to get this woman to just shut up. "This can't be that much of a surprise; I saw the way you looked at her when you first came in."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Jane flounders without disdain to rely on. She hates being taken unawares and this woman, Jane squints surreptitiously at the name badge flopping from the pocket of her scrubs, this _Sandra_ is making her increasingly uncomfortable with her observations and knowledge of Maura's drugged ramblings.

"Maura is my best friend and I do love her. It's just that usually it's the other way around and I'm lying in the hospital bed while she bosses the attending and support staff around. It's not often that I'm having to –" Jane trails off as she realizes that Sandra has turned back to the monitors and tuned her out.

"Well right back at you…" The detective mutters under her breath and settles herself into the hard plastic chair next to the bed. Jane's fingers absently follow along the blue tracery of veins on the limp hand still cradled in her own as she tries to sort out the jumble of emotions coursing through her. Maura loves her, of course she does. But, like, _loves_ loves her? Jane is content to worship Maura from afar, only to bristle and snap when the doctor comes too close to discovering her secret. Maybe Maura isn't content to love from afar. Maybe Maura wants what Jane wants…

Her first instinct is to run away as fast as her legs will carry her because, of course, her life and emotional intelligence are dictated by her lizard brain. Maura won't remember anything she said, Jane can pretend that she doesn't know, and they can keep on with their bizarre status quo. Maura's hand tightening on her own yanks Jane from her contemplation.

"Mmoooh…thinm gn be sk."

Jane jumps to her feet as Maura shifts uncomfortably, then doggedly struggles to sit up, her pained grimace making Jane's gut clench sympathetically. "Hey, HEY! Little help?!" Jane shouts for the nurse even as the older woman is pulling clear fluid from a vial into a syringe, and quickly pushing it into the port on Maura's other hand.

"It's an antiemetic. She'll feel better in a moment." The older woman throws the vial and syringe away and moves over to the locked drug cabinet.

Jane drops the hand she is holding and helps Maura sit up, and then gently curls an arm just under her breasts to support the doctor as she leans forward. Maura coughs, each abrasive exhalation causing her to wince and moan. Jane can tell she's fighting to keep from dry heaving. The detective rubs her neck and murmurs comforts and endearments, nodding at the nurse when she offers more painkillers.

"M fn ow. No drgs. Mking me sk" Maura groans the words into her own lap, rolling her head over to lean into Jane's body. The nurse freezes, frowning, her hand still on the key in the lock of the cabinet. She shakes her head when Jane motions for her to give it anyway and points at Jane then to Maura. The detective nods again, and despite the audience, presses a kiss on the top of the blond head.

"Maura, sweetheart, you need something else for pain. She already gave you something so you won't throw up. Just let her give you this too, please?" Jane uses her TJ voice, cajoling and pleading until Maura finally nods. The detective motions to Sandra, pulling her hand out of Maura's hair to hold her index finger and thumb a bit apart to let the nurse know to bring the lightest dose.

The pain has made Maura's skin go greyish and sweat beads on her forehead by the time Sandra returns to push the meds. They work almost at once: Maura relaxes and Jane can ease her back against the pillows. The doctor frowns and whimpers when Jane pulls away, but her eyes do not open. The grey cast to her skin gives away to something more akin to a living being, and Jane brushes the back of her index finger along Maura's slightly clenched jaw then she gathers Maura's limp hand in hers and plops back down in the seat.

"Just rest. I'll be here when you wake up." Jane leans forward and whispers, then swears she sees Maura's jaw relax and a sleepy smile tug at the corners of her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews and hits and encouragement! Writing in this fandom has really been a joy. Concrit is always welcome, as well as just a simple hello! To the anons, guests, and accountless reviewers: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I wish I could respond personally.**

**On with the show.**

It's been eight hours since Jane first took Maura's ice cold hand in her own, seven hours since she walked alongside the bed as they wheeled Maura from recovery to her private room, and six hours and forty-seven minutes since she's moved from her post in a chair that rivaled Maura's beloved Karim Rashid for discomfort. She has not yet let go of the hand.

"You can go home now." Maura's words trip over themselves as they struggle to emerge from drugged lips. She might be saying one thing, but her tone is saying quite another. Jane fights a smile as the doctor continues her fight with language. "I'm fine now...you are no longer obli – ."

Jane shakes her head, fingers tightening slightly to let Maura know that, come hell or high water, she will remain here by her side until forcibly removed. It's both terrifying and liberating; Jane knows she always indulges Maura, but she never really thought as to why. But for hours now, she has done little but think as she traces all of the tiny cross hatching lines with the tip of a nail, following the little grooves across knuckles and up fingers, along nail beds and over fingertips. She files the whorls, loops, and arches away in her mind, certain that should she need to identify a print she could do so without AFIS.

"Really," Maura gasps a little as she tries to lean towards the detective, "Go home, Jane. Take care of Jo and feed Bass for me."

"Shut up and lay down." Jane is on her feet at Maura's gasp and is now gently pushing her back into the pillows with her free hand. "Ma has Jo and I know she'll feed that walking boulder you call a companion."

Maura acquiesces, the scratchy cotton pillowcases grating against the plastic protective covers, but she doesn't close her eyes. Jane follows her gaze to their joined hands and fights the compulsion to let go and scoot back.

"I only suggested it because I know you don't want to be here. You hate hospitals." Maura's eyes flick up to Jane's face. The heavy meds must be wearing off because she is much more lucid than she was in the recovery room. Jane feels the first wave of uneasiness clench in her stomach. She is treading in unfamiliar territory, at least in her heart. Casual physical contact with Maura is norm, but not in combination with her new internal acknowledgement that she might_, perhaps_, feel something a bit stronger than friendship for Maura. Eight hours of introspection can put just about anything in perspective.

"No, I hate _being_ in the hospital."

"Which you currently are…"

"No, Maura, _you're_ in the hospital." Jane rolls her eyes and shoves her right hand into her hair, dragging it through tangled curls in frustration. "I'm just visiting you."

"Still…" Maura's eyes drop to their clasped hands again, then back up to stare in confusion at Jane's apparent discomfiture. "This building is a hospital and you are currently being in it–"

"Noooo, I mean – you know what?" Jane reaches over Maura's prone body and makes like she's going to snatch the controller for the morphine pump. "Go back to sleep."

"Don't you dare. I don't want anym–" Maura jerks reflexively and immediately cries out. "OUCH, ow oow."

"Oh no, Maur, I'm sorry. Lemme see." Jane frowns and her eyes, pools of frustration a second ago, are now frightened and contrite.

"Nooo." Maura groans and tightens her grip on Jane's hand as the detective, this time, moves to push the call button. When the nurse arrives, Maura is trying to breathe through the pain as Jane sits on the edge of the bed, white-faced and murmuring apologies, free hand rubbing her friend's leg.

"Doc, I believe I told your friend here that you were to use that pump to keep the pain from getting out of control. You don't want the breakout med." The young woman moves to the monitor next to the bed and pushes a few buttons. "What number is your pain?"

Maura shakes her head, the panting getting more under her control. "E – eight, nnnine maybe, but I dun wanany more morphine."

"Take the medicine, ok?" Jane would take the pain on herself if she could. Maura is still shaking her head and Jane looks helplessly at the nurse.

"Dr. Isles, you know that suffering through pain only slows healing and recuperation." The nurse moves to straighten the tubes and wires trailing from Maura's arm. "You want to leave within the next couple of days right?"

Maura nods, still cringing, her breathing still a bit ragged. "Half dose."

The nurse moves to the pump and after a few beeps she motions for Maura to push the pump. Again, the relief is almost instantaneous. Her breathing eases and Jane feels her own racing heart slow.

"Stay?" The request is mumbled, but just the drooping eyelids and slow breathing are enough to make Jane smile.

"Of course. Where else would I go?"

* * *

The knock on the door is soft enough that Jane sleeps through it, her body bent at the waist and her cheek resting against their clasped hands.

"Detective Rizzoli?" The hesitant whisper is accompanied by a hand on a bony shoulder.

Jane practically jumps out of her skin, and it is only because her subconscious knows that Maura's in the bed that she doesn't cry out. She whirls in the chair, letting go of Maura's hand for the first time in hours, to come up close and personal with Hope.

"What do you want?" Jane watches with satisfaction as the weak smile plastered on the other woman's face falls. "If it's Maura you want to talk to, you're out of luck right now. I'm not waking her up."

"How is she?" Hope's lips quirk into a small, tentative smile at Jane's protective tone.

"She's in a wicked amount of pain." Jane isn't going to sugarcoat anything for this woman who treats Maura as nothing more than an organ-storage unit. "And she's not really keen on taking the medicine to keep control of it."

Hope's smile disappears and her brows furrow as she subconsciously reaches for Maura's chart.

"You have no right to look at that." Jane's voice is so low that Maura doesn't even twitch, but Hope jumps as if the detective shouted. "Come back when she's awake and can tell you to mind your own business herself."

"I just wanted to check and make sure she's alright." Taken aback, the older woman nervously twists and turns the rings on her left hand. Jane is struck by how much the motion reminds her of Maura. "Cailin is doing wonderfully. She's also hooked to a pump for pain management, but she doesn't seem as resistant to using it…" Jane sighs in resignation and cuts across Hope's comment.

"Maura wants to see you and Cailin." Jane shifts her weight from foot to foot, concern now that her dislike for this woman is shining through and will ruin chances that Maura should have to connect with her biological mother. "So please, come back later when she's awake."

Hope nods and puts her hand on Maura's blanket-covered foot. "She's very lucky to have you, Jane."

Jane watches as she gives Maura's toes a little squeeze, then another small smile graces the older woman's lips. Regret and acceptance twist and blend across Hope's face, but their journey ends with what Jane thinks might be guilt.

"I won't be here then, if Maura doesn't want me to be." Jane isn't able to eliminate all traces of animosity from her voice, but she is hoping her honesty is, at the very least, appreciated. "I'm sure you would like some time alone with your daughter." She is sure to emphasize the end of her statement, Maura's sobbing confessional of Hope's denial still in her mind.

"Yes, of course." Hope evades her eyes, turning for the door before Jane realizes the other woman intends on leaving. "Please tell Maura I stopped by. Goodbye, Detective."

Jane says nothing, surprised by the abrupt departure. Stealing a look at Maura, she finds her breathing slow and rhythmic, the only sign of discomfort is the slight crease between her closed eyes. Her hand moves of its own accord, her thumb gently smoothing over the spot until Maura's brow relaxes. Jane lifts both hands high over her head, stretching out the stiff muscles in her back, as she walks over to the window and looks out on the grey spring sky.

"She better come back." Jane mutters to herself, one palm pressing against her forehead the other tucked into the pocket of her jeans. She turns back to the bed, her back already protesting the miserable chair, and does her best to keep her irritation in check. Everything rankles her lately; everything sets her off, and it's fatiguing. As she sits, she takes Maura's hand again, and makes note of the sense of peace that comes from the simple gesture.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Almost there, just one more left! **

**Thank you thank you everyone who followed this or me, and who have taken the time to leave me a few words about it. Your reviews really make me happy! **

Two days and no contact. Jane would throttle Hope and then snatch Maura's kidney back with her bare hands if it would make Maura go back to her usual sunny self. She's been alternately clingy and stand-offish; pain and disappointment combining to turn her into someone Jane barely recognizes. The detective wants to choke all of Maura's family plus her own nagging mother. Hope and Cailin haven't so much as called. Constance has managed to phone, but it was during a physical therapy appointment that Jane is sure the other woman knew about. Angela is as underfoot as Jo Friday; she's at the house so frequently and Jane finds that almost as irksome as the others' neglect.

"Pill party time!" Jane calls out over the documentary droning in the other room. She has discovered that it's true when it's said that doctors make terrible patients. A bottle of water in one hand and the 8:00 round of pills in the other, she moves over to Maura's prone form on the couch. "Let the fun and games begin!" The last is muttered just under her breath.

"I don't want to." The grouchy whine floating up from the couch makes Jane stop her approach just long enough to wipe the goofy smile off of her face. The newly self-aware part of Jane wants to scoop Maura up into her lap and suck on that pouting lower lip. She shivers, surprised at how strong these urges are now that she's willing to acknowledge them. And while she'd love to surprise Maura with proclamations of love and hot, hungry kisses, there are still many pieces that need to fall into place before either of those things happen. For one, Maura needs to actually confirm that she feels for Jane what Jane feels for her. Two, she needs to heal so Jane can scoop her up without hurting her.

"Well, if you want, I'll take one if you'll take one." As she comes around the couch into Maura's line of sight, she pretends to pop one of the pills into her mouth and then takes a swig from the bottle. She then holds the other pill and bottle out expectantly. Maura's face goes from merely grumpy to absolutely scandalized. Jane bites the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning.

"You do know that taking someone else's prescription medications is illegal?" She grimaces as she holds her arm out for help sitting up, but Jane pushes it aside. After setting the bottle on the table, she wraps her arm around Maura's upper back and slips the other under bent knees to gently lift the blond into a sitting position.

"Yeah, I'm aware, but it'll make this," The brunette gestures between them, "that much more tolerable. Why can't you just take these things without a song and dance from me? Here, bottoms up." Jane drops both pills into Maura's hand with a wink and hands her the bottle. "Anyway, remember, you work for homicide not the drug unit."

Maura eyes the bottle with disdain. "You drank out of this already."

"Oh for the love of all that's holy –!"

Maura smiles slightly, tosses the pills into her mouth, and tips the bottle back for a few swallows of water. Jane thinks that perhaps when they took out Maura's kidney they shoved a sense of humor in its place because when Maura isn't whining or demanding attention (and sometimes even then); she seems to have stolen a page from Jane's book. When the brunette mentioned this earlier, Maura rolled her eyes and said that maybe it's because Jane is actually listening to _her_ for once instead of constantly trying to bring the attention back to herself.

Pre-hospital Jane would have stomped off in a growling chorus of whatevers, bemoaning any given attention loud enough to garner more. Post-hospital Jane is realizing how much her denial of her feelings for Maura made her a raging bitch. Post-hospital Jane wants to talk about her epiphany in the recovery room, to apologize profusely and beg forgiveness. She's been walking around for the past four days and fourteen hours with a rabble of butterflies in her stomach, but that conversation would be doing exactly what Maura accused her of doing. Jane's determined that Maura gets more attention in the next two weeks than she's had over the last four years.

"I'm going to go straighten up the kitchen." She tips her head forward and meets Maura's eyes. "Going to be alright here for a bit?"

Despite her previous joking, Maura shakes her head. "Sit with me?" The request is timid and Jane frowns a bit at the one-eighty that her friend has just made. This emotional swinging is decidedly un-Maura-like, but has been happening since Jane brought her friend home.

"Of course. Up, up." Jane gently lifts Maura's legs and settles them into her lap as she lowers herself to the couch. The two have always been very physical in their relationship, but Jane knows that she's been more touchy than usual; she can't help it though. Nothing feels as good Maura's soft skin under her rough fingertips; nothing is as beautiful as the way Maura relaxes into the touches. Jane hopes that Maura's seeking of this new physicality is a sign that her drugged declarations of love are actually true.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you think," Maura lowers her eyes from Jane's and twists her fingers in the knit throw, "that I'm difficult to love?"

Jane's heart stutters at the plaintive sorrow soaking the question. She wraps her hands around Maura's socked feet and rubs gently, wanting to say more than _of course not, don't be stupid, I love you_. Maura continues through Jane's hesitation, her voice thick.

"I don't want her to be my mother. I have a mother." When she looks up at Jane, the brunette's heart breaks at the tears shimmering in those hazel eyes. One tear breaks free and Maura's hand jerks from the blanket to wipe it angrily away. "I don't even know what I want. I just have this void inside and I thought that helping Cailin would make it go away, but instead I feel worse." Jane shoves down the urge to say that the emptiness Maura is feeling is where her kidney used to be. Babysteps to being a better Jane.

"Honey," Jane squeezes Maura's toes then rubs her way up her shins to her knees, pouring all the love she feels through her hands, "you have just had major surgery. You are in pain and are taking some serious narcotics. Your birth mother is an idiot for not showing you what a wonderful person you have turned out to be, and your jerk sister is still exactly that. You are dealing with a lot right now…." Maura abruptly shakes her head and scrubs at her face with her palms.

"You're right, you're right. I'm being ridiculous..."

"No…Maur-"

"It's the Percocet talking." The blond goes to stand, and Jane, shaking her head, jumps up to take her hands and assist. "I should just go to bed before I become any more maudlin."

"Maura…"

"I'm going to shower; can you redress everything when I'm finished?" Maura turns to speak over her shoulder as she shuffles to the master bedroom.

"Come on, Maur. Let's talk about this." Jane steps towards her, but the other woman just shakes her head.

"I'll be finished in ten minutes. Will that give you enough time to do what you'd wanted in the kitchen?" Maura's tone leaves no room for discussion, so Jane just nods.

She continues to stand by the couch until the sound of water from the shower kicks her into gear. She moves to the kitchen and loads the dishes into the dishwasher, and then wipes down the countertops the whole time running through possible conversations in her head. All of them end in Maura looking at her in shock and horror. The shower stops and she throws the paper towels in the recycling bin so her friend can only be irritated by her use of paper instead of a sponge.

The bedroom door is slightly ajar, and her cheeks heat as she knocks. All the previous times that she surreptitiously snuck peeks at Maura in various states of undress, she chalked it up to regular old competitive nature. Now though, she knows better.

"In the bathroom. The light's better here." Jane meets Maura's eyes in the bathroom mirror as she sits on the edge of the tub wrapped in plush robe.

"You think you have everything?" Jane can't help but smile at the array of gauzes and tapes and dressings that are laid out on the vanity.

"I'm pretty sure that I've got everything you will nee…oh wait." Maura smiles and arches an eyebrow.

Jane simply cannot help herself. She grins at how absolutely adorable Maura is when she picks up on the joke. She is so ridiculously in love with this woman that she almost blurts it right then. The butterflies are back and she fights the compulsion to hide her feelings in biting snark.

"I tried to see it, but I can't turn myself around enough to see in the mirror." Maura unties the belt to her robe and Jane's hand flies to up cover her eyes.

"God, Maura, little warning, eh?" She peeks through her fingers to see Maura roll her eyes.

"I don't have anything you haven't already seen. We had to strip and shower during that contamination emergency. Besides, I'm wearing a cami and underwear."

Jane shrugs and sheepishly pulls her hand from her face. "Well…let's do this then."

Maura sheds the robe and Jane can see that the cami is rolled up so that it doesn't rest against the incisions on her lower back. There are four angry red marks; a four inch incision and three smaller cuts and all are surrounded by deep purple bruising.

"Oh Maura," Jane's hands hover anxiously above the wounds, "Sweetheart, where he cut you is so red and bruised. Is that normal?"

"I can't reach back there and touch without hurting. Is it hot?"

Jane lays her hand gently against the largest incision, focusing intently as Maura's breathing increases. Her fingers move unbidden, tracing along the uneven edges of the bruise. There's a stabbing pain in her own back, sympathy for what Maura must certainly be feeling. "No, no warmer than the uninjured skin." Jane can hear herself speaking, like a recording playing in another room.

"Then there probably isn't any infection." Maura's voice is soft, "The alcohol pads and gauze sponges are on the sink, but I would rather you not use the tape. I sometimes have terrible reactions to the adhesive."

Jane nods and pulls the required items from the counter and redresses everything according to Maura's instructions. Throughout the entire process, Maura chews on her lip and breathes heavily through her nose, trying to keep from gasping. To keep the dressings in place, she loosely wraps the blond in a wide elastic bandage, and then tugs the black cami into place. For a moment, she stands beside Maura, one hand against the surgical site the other resting on her stomach. She leans her head down to rest her forehead on Maura's shoulder and whispers, "I'm sorry."

Maura's free hands come up to cover the hand on her stomach and she tilts her head against Jane's. They stand like that until Jane feels Maura shiver and wobble. She helps Maura slip on her robe, and then leads her over to the bed. After tugging down the duvet and sheet, she pats the mattress. The blond's eyelids droop, evidence that the drugs are taking full effect. Jane takes her robe and Maura eases herself down until her head is on the pillows. The brunette pulls the covers up over the other woman and brushes a few stray blond curls from her face. Jane then leans down and brushes her lips against Maura's forehead.

"I'll be right down the hall if you need anything."

But already asleep, Maura doesn't respond.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This was initially going to be a 5 chapter fic, but I need one more chapter to get Jane where I want her to be. Bear with me, please!**

**Thank you so much for all the follows and reviews. Your encouragement means everything.**

"Here, sweetie. Squeeze my hand. Breathe and try to relax. That's it, easy."

She knows how it sounds and mentally throws a short prayer at whatever deity has arranged for her helicopter-mother to be out running errands. Maura's been out of the hospital for a week and a half now, and while the incisions themselves are pretty well closed, the healing, cut muscles are now spasming. Jane is well aware of the intense, breath-stealing pain that comes with the spasms. How just the tiniest movement can set them off and how no amount of tears or begging can really make them stop. She is also aware that no narcotic can touch muscle-spasm pain, and that the muscle relaxer prescription that Maura is refusing to fill doesn't really do much either.

"It hurts." Maura whimpers, letting go of Jane's hand to clutch at the long arm curled around her stomach. They are sitting crossed-legged in the middle of the huge king bed, Maura facing the foot of it, Jane sitting up against her right side. Jane's left hand rests against the surgical site, pushing against the flexing muscles and hoping the counter-pressure provides a bit of relief. She remembers her own recovery, sobbing and screaming into her pillow, alone and wishing she were brave enough to call Maura or her mother for help.

"I know, baby." Jane pulls Maura in tighter, pressing her hand hard enough to feel the twitching muscles beneath soft skin. She's finding that the little endearments and pet names slip more frequently and easily from her lips with each passing day, despite her effort to the contrary. She wonders if Maura notices. "Can you lay down? On your side? I'll work on it for you."

Maura nods and sinks down, shakily curling into a ball, her shoulder shoving into Jane's thigh forcing the brunette to uncross her long legs so Maura can nestle between them. There are definitely lines being crossed here; Jane is positive that no platonic friends, even those in a similar situation, would ever position themselves like this. Maura's head is pillowed on Jane's leg, her spine curls along toned thighs, and her ass is tucked into the bend of Jane's left knee. The blond has threaded one arm under Jane's leg and has thrown the other across her face to expose the incision site and hide her tears. Jane pauses a moment to bury the flash of heat that flares as Maura wiggles against her.

"Comfortable?" Her voice husks out, far deeper and more suggestive than she intends. Maura doesn't move but to shrug her assent. Jane hopes the pain distracts her friend enough that she doesn't notice Jane's struggle to stop from pressing herself against Maura's back. "This isn't going to feel too hot right now, but hopefully it'll help so you can sleep better tonight."

Last night had been hellish; the first night the spasms had started. Jane had sat straight up in bed, shocked awake by Maura's scream. By the time she'd run down the hallway to the master bedroom, the scream had devolved to choking sobs.

"I cca-can'tt bbreathe."

At first Jane had frozen, terrified that Maura had thrown a clot and it had travelled her lungs. The surgeon had warned them both about clots and how dangerous it was for Maura to remain stationary for too long. Then she saw Maura arch and try to press her hand to her side where the incision was. The memory of her own surgical recovery and spasms lept into her mind.

"Here, here…hold on, I'm coming." Jane had scrambled up onto the bed, pulled Maura to her knees and pushed the blond's arm up over her head to stretch out the area. Maura had cried out, fighting against Jane's hold on her arm. "Slow breaths. Look at me." Those hazel eyes had been wide and wet with panic and pain and Maura had struggled for a moment before surrendering. Then Jane had pushed her own hand hard against the area around the incision. Counter-pressure. During her own recovery she'd read how massage and pressure against the straining muscles could help.

"Slow, Maur. Don't try to breathe deep yet. I remember this. It happened after I got shot. You gotta move slow, breathe shallow until it stops. We'll get you a heating pad too, and I can help by massaging it out." She'd barely finished talking before Maura had sagged against her, muscles calmed, drugs and the fatigue from the ordeal pulling her under. Jane had stayed and held her all night, her warm hand up under Maura's shirt, pressed tightly against her side.

Jane blinks away the memory and pulls her hand away for a moment to rub it against her other to warm them, then she takes the liberty of tugging Maura's shirt up above the incision. She detaches the elastic compression wrap intended to help with surgery site pain and lays her warmed hands against the angry red scar and still-bruised skin. The appearance of the incision no longer shocks her as it did the first time she saw it, so she keeps her voice cheerful and supportive. She notices that Maura avoids mirrors and hasn't looked at her side since she's come home. Jane's not used to seeing the blond so uncertain. Maura is the most confident woman she's ever met and it upsets the brunette that anything has shattered such a fundamental part of her friend.

"Alright?" Her hands are moving in firm strokes around the incision, gentling only when Maura whimpers and cringes from her touch. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it'll be better later, I promise."

"I know." The whisper shoved through clenched teeth is so quiet that Jane has to lean forward to hear. She's draped over Maura's fetal-positioned frame and she bites back a gasp at the fiery points of contact between their bodies. She blushes, in arousal and shame – the woman pressed against her, the woman curled in pain between her legs does not deserve the burden of Jane's desire. The flush stays in her cheeks, shame evolving to anger highlighted in red painted across high cheekbones.

"What's wrong?" Maura is still whispering, following Jane's advice and taking slow measured breaths.

Jane shakes her head, but doesn't stop the motion of her hands. Maura squeezes Jane's calf and gently brings her other arm down, lightly trapping Jane's hands between her side and elbow. She doesn't move otherwise, because she doesn't need to see Jane's face to read Jane's emotions. This week of constant company has strengthened whatever natural connection they have and it makes Jane slightly uneasy.

"Don't do that, that shutdown." Just a murmur, but fierce despite the low volume. "I don't deserve that."

And she's right, Jane thinks, Maura doesn't deserve the baggage of nightmares, guilt, and worry that make up Jane. Maura deserves someone who loves her as Jane does, who wants her as Jane does, who will protect her and treasure her as Jane would, but who can also mingle effortlessly at charity functions and sleep soundly through the night.

"You're right. You don't." Jane taps Maura's elbow, wanting her to raise it so she can put her back together, compression wrap, cami, shirt all arranged and tucked in. Sliding her hand under Maura's shoulder, she helps her to sit up, still in the vee of Jane's legs. Maura follows the motion all the way through, coming up to lean against Jane, her head moving to rest on Jane's shoulder.

"I know this isn't what you signed up for when we became friends. I just want you to know how much I truly appreciate everything you're doing for me." Maura pulls back to meet Jane's eyes, the red-rims make them almost glow green and Jane wants to kiss her. Just kiss her and throw all her cards on the table. She's all in. Except she's not and Maura's still talking.

"What?" Jane blinks stupidly, pulling her eyes from Maura's moving lips and making some more space between their bodies so she can think.

"I know I've not exactly been good company over the past week – "

"Wait, what?!" Jane barks and Maura jumps then flinches. "Sorry..oh I'm sorry." The brunette holds her hands out, ready to compress if needed. Maura just shakes her head, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"I'm ok, you just startled me. I just wanted –"

"No wait, stop. Maura, you have _not_ been bad company. I don't even think I could follow your thought process with a map. You are," she hesitates here, wanting to emphasize without sounding like her scolding mother, "recovering from major surgery. I knew what I was getting into. Just, it's fine. You're adorable when you're cranky." Before she can stop herself, she taps Maura on the nose with her finger. It's getting too serious and Jane's afraid she's just going to go full Catholic and confess everything.

"I can't think of a better way to spend two weeks of vacation time." She's careful to exaggerate the roll of her eyes and wink as she pushes farther away and folds her legs into a pretzel. "You don't know it, but I've been pocketing all those pills you refuse to take, you know, to make a little somethin' somethin' on the side."

Maura smiles then, a real one that engages dimples and crinkles her eyes and Jane almost sighs in relief. She's dodged yet another bullet, but she knows she's not going to be able to do it forever. Maura hides incredible insight behind naiveté, although it's not like she needs it with the way Jane's been leaking hearts and rainbows all over the house.

"Come on, let's go out and get the TV on and a snack before my ma gets back." Jane slides off the bed and holds her hands out to help Maura stand. "If we turn it up really loud maybe she'll take the hint and go back to her place."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Maura, still smiling, shake her head and Jane smirks a bit and gives herself an internal pat on the back for managing to worm her way out of a potential disaster. Score one for maintaining the status quo. It's not until they're about to sit down on the couch that she realizes that she's been holding Maura's hand the entire time.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yay! I can finally check that completed box! A HUGE thank you to socks-lost, rizzleseverywhere, and El for their help and encouragement. you guys!**

**Sorry it's a bit late, I have a Thanksgiving fic to post once the person I wrote it for knows about it. I had to take a hot second to throw that one together. Again, thank you all so much for your follows and reviews. The views on this little fic make me giddy, and all of your sweet messages really motivated me. I hope you all enjoy this last installment!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The poem Maura recites at the end is borrowed from e.e. cummings. It's a beautiful poem, I recommend looking it up to see it in its entirety. **

§ § §

It's been three days of uninterrupted sleep but Jane has never been more tired. She thinks it's possible that she might die if she doesn't get to put her hands on Maura's bare skin again. The spasms have responded surprisingly well to stretching and drug therapy (Maura finally caved after a particularly bad morning that almost had Jane sobbing sympathetically with her). The tone between the two of them is markedly different though, now – Jane can feel Maura withdrawing, pulling away from her to prepare for their inevitable separation. The detective goes back to work tomorrow; at least that's when Jane told Cavanaugh she'd initially return. She's got more than ten weeks of PTO time built up, even with this two week stint. She's never taken a vacation and is pretty sure she can count the sick days she's taken on one hand. Since Hoyt, at least. Even when Bianchi took her, she went back to work the next day, despite Maura's protests.

She wishes Maura would protest now.

Jane would be on the phone in a heartbeat, calling in sick for however many days Maura needs, calling in quit if Maura decides she needs Jane forever by her side. Jane Rizzoli might be the job, but she's discovering that Maura is her life.

"Janie?" Angela's calls softly from the hallway. By nature, Angela isn't quiet, so when her Ma manages to sneak up on her, Jane is always surprised. The duffle bag on the bed is surrounded by two weeks of clothes, folded neatly, of course. Part of Maura's therapy is for her to resume daily activities as long as she doesn't over-exert herself. Folding laundry can be done from the couch as long as someone else carries the baskets from the laundry room to wherever they are being folded. Maura has also been loading the wash machine, dryer, and dishwasher by herself. Jane knows she's not really needed anymore; that Maura can have anyone carry baskets or get the teapot from the highest shelf, and she can't stop the pang of loss. Now that she's lost the opportunity to make Maura realize how much she needs Jane, Jane realizes how much she needs Maura.

"What, Ma?" It's a Rice Crispies reply—all snap, crackle, and pop. Thinking about leaving; preparing for leaving makes her hurt in places that she thought were already dead. "Just come in. You'd have barged your way in here already if Casey were here." It's the first time his name has crossed her lips since he left yet again, after the building collapse. She still feels her nose wrinkle on the first syllable.

Her mother cracks open the door and pokes her head in, the worry lines creasing deep between her eyes. "There's something wrong with Maura. She's not come out of her room yet today. No breakfast." The fact that Maura hasn't yet eaten is, of course, her mother's biggest concern.

"I'm sure she's fine. She's probably trying to make up for all the sleep she's been missing the past week and a half. Leaver 'lone." The growl is misplaced, but misery loves company.

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli!" Angela huffs, shoving the rest of her body through the door. "You need to get your head out of your ass and communicate. You've been moping around here like someone stole your best friend. She's right down the hall waiting for you. I don't know why you two are tip-toeing around each other the way you are, but it needs to stop." Angela's arms speak better Italian than her mouth does, and according to the ferocity of their movements, Jane is getting a tongue lashing. "But you have no excuse. We've taught you to speak your mind since you've been able to talk. Go _talk_ to her."

Before Jane can retort, Angela is gone in a whirlwind of indignation and gestures. The brunette kicks around the room, throwing shirts and shorts and socks into her duffle heedless of their careful folding. She's not being as loud as she'd like, what with her bare feet on the plush area rug, so she's surprised by the knock at her door.

"Go away, Ma."

"It's me." Maura pushes the door open and stands meekly in the threshold, eyes looking everywhere but at Jane. "I thought maybe you'd want some help packing, especially since I'm sure you're just tossing everything in there." The blonde pushes past Jane and dumps the duffle onto the bed. "If you would roll up your shirts, they'll stay wrinkle free until you get home," She hesitates a moment, frowning, "and then you won't have to iron them before you wear them."

"Really?" Jane barks before she can stop herself, then her hands fist against her sides and she mentally chastises herself. Thirty-seven is way too old to continue with this ridiculous passive-aggressive dance that they've perfected, but she's not going to fall to the floor on her knees and profess her undying love without some sort of sign that it's reciprocated. "Look, it doesn't matter if they get wrinkled. The only person who would notice is you, and you're not going to be there."

Maura's shoulders sag, but she doesn't stop meticulously rolling Jane's shirts and placing them carefully in the open bag. "That's not true. I mean. It is true that I won't be there, but Barry will notice. He has wonderful fashion sense."

"It's going to be shitty without you, Maur." Jane steps closer, but the ease with which she's been touching Maura is gone and she hovers awkwardly next to the blond. She tries to break the unease with a typical Jane-whine, "I hate having to make nice to Pike for the next two weeks," she stomps her feet for effect, encouraged by the hint of a smile playing along Maura's lips. Jane pushes a little further, hoping the tiny rise at the edges of Maura's lips will push up into that dimple. "It's so much easier to kiss up to someone who deserves it." She waggles her eyebrows and Maura's face lights up when the compliment sinks in.

Jane feels Maura's hand brush against hers and then hook their pinky fingers together. It's the most contact Maura has initiated since the spasms got under control. Jane squeezes gently and flips her fingers around so that they intertwine. She runs her thumb up and down the smooth skin of Maura's hand, squeezes her fingers again and gently pulls away.

"Therapy today for you. Ready to go?"

Maura tries on her best pout and that lower lip is again so tempting that Jane nearly bites through her own as distraction.

"Aw, poor baby. How about while you're lifting those little 2 pound weights, I go run five miles? Will that make you feel better?"

The gleeful grin she gets in response makes her forget that she told Maura she refuses to even put on her gym shoes, much less run, until Maura is able to force her.

* * *

They both come back to Maura's, stiff and sore, and retreat to respective bathrooms for showers and a change of clothes. The house is filled with the smell of garlic and basil and Rizzoli childhood, and Jane feels all the tension and distress at returning to her apartment fade. Pasta and her Ma's gravy will always be better than any antidepressant a doctor can prescribe.

Jane pads down the stairs in sock-feet, pausing a moment to catalogue Maura's condition by the way she sits, hunched over, at the island pushing homemade farfalle around her plate. Jane stops at the foot of the stairs to listen to her mother jabber, oblivious to Maura's posture and probable pain. She can hear Angela explaining that she makes the farfalle because it was the only bow she could ever get Jane to put in or on her body. Jane rolls her eyes and steps forward, ready to save Maura from her Ma, but stops when she hears Maura's lowered voice.

"She's not always hard, sharp edges."

"Not with you, piccola." Maura's head jerks up as she realizes she spoke aloud. Jane recognizes Angela's smile and soft eyes – they are reserved for her children, and her children only. Her stomach flutters at the significance. "But with the rest of us, Jane is Jane. With you, she's the sweet, loving girl I always wanted. Only you bring that out in her."

She cannot stand in the shadow of the stairwell all night, so she quietly backs halfway up the stairs then runs back down, careful to be sure to make enough noise so they hear her coming. Maura turns stiffly, the smile on her face not quite masking the pain brought on by the movement.

"I thought I'd cook tonight so you'd have some leftovers to take for lunch tomorrow, Janie." Angela finishes wiping off the counter and drapes the dishrag over the faucet. "I'll leave you girls to dinner." The older woman comes around the counter and turns her cheek to Jane who dutifully kisses it. Then she turns to Maura, squeezes her shoulder gently and leans in to whisper in her ear. Maura offers Angela a sad smile and shake of her head.

"Enough Ma. She hurts!" Jane wants her mother to leave and Maura to ask her not to go to work tomorrow. She pushes Angela out the door and closes it with a flourish, eyeing the plate of pasta sitting at the seat next to Maura. "Bad day today at therapy?"

Maura just nods as she forks the last two pasta bows into her mouth and pushes away from the island to put her plate in the dishwasher. "I'm going to go to bed I think." Maura won't meet Jane's eyes. "Have a good day tomorrow."

"Wait, we aren't going to hang out tonight?" Jane speaks around the forkful of pasta crammed in her mouth, manners forgotten in her shock. "And you're not going to get up and have breakfast with me? Why am I staying here tonight if you don't want me here?"

"If you want to go, I should be fine tonight." Maura backs out of the kitchen and towards the master bedroom. "Your mother is just across the way, I can phone her if the need arises. Goodnight, Jane."

Before Jane can respond again, Maura is gone and the door to her room closes with a click.

"What the hell just happened?" Jane stares at the closed door, appetite gone. She really thought she made progress communicating this morning, but it seems that there was quite a backslide since therapy. Jo whines at her feet as she scrapes the remnants of her dinner into the container her mother labelled with her name. "Should we go home, Jo?" The little dog wags her tail and gives a pointed look at her empty food bowl. "Sheesh, of course. Like you care where we are. Just as long as you get fed."

She dumps some kibble in the bowl and sets her phone to an ungodly hour. Her things are packed, but she's already laid out clothes for tomorrow, Jo's food and dishes aren't packed, and she genuinely doesn't want to go. She has a feeling that if she walks out that door tonight she'll lose any chance she might have.

With a sigh she checks all the windows and doors and arms the alarm system. She stands for a moment in front of Maura's closed bedroom door, but in the end she turns and trudges up the stairs, cracking the bedroom door in case Maura should need her.

* * *

She sits up, wide awake, the moment the mattress dips. "What's wrong? Are you alright? What hurts?" The questions are garbled, so when Maura responds Jane thinks the blond misheard.

"My heart."

"What?" She struggles to see Maura's face in the dark, but the blond is sitting with her knees drawn up and her face buried in her arms.

"That void I told you about, that donating my kidney didn't fill? It's right where my heart is."

Of course they are going to have this conversation at 2am, when Jane is woefully unprepared. She regrets not making notecards to keep by her bedside table just in case something like this happened. Eloquent she is not, even less so when she feels like something small and smelly crawled into her mouth and died. But this is it, the chance she's been waiting for, and from Maura's posture and tone she doesn't think she's the only one coming into this unrehearsed.

"For two weeks I've been wanting to talk to you…about feelings and stuff that I've been having—"

Maura turns her head to look at Jane, but she doesn't speak.

"—for a long time. The feelings I mean. Since Hoyt, I've known, but I fought it, you know. I just told myself that I loved you like a sister. Then all that shit with Paddy, and Dennis…fucking Dennis. I was done fighting it then. I didn't know how you felt though; what you wanted from me. I was content with dinners and movies and my left hand after evenings snuggled up on the couch." She winces at how crass the comment seems, but Maura says nothing. "When you promised to do this amazingly selfless thing for some pretty unlikeable people, I might have acted irritated but really I was amazed by your generosity and I just fell for you even more." Jane clears her throat and hesitates a moment, gathering words to try to explain the constant fluttering when Maura is near. "Then, they call me down to recovery and you were there, and the nurse told me all the things you said and I had this hope that maybe you felt for me what I felt for you."

Jane feels Maura turn to face her, her hand sliding along the duvet feeling for Jane's. The brunette feels her hand clasped between both of Maura's, the delicate fingers tracing patterns for a moment before Maura brings the hand to her lips and brushes a kiss against the scarred palm. Then she brings it down and presses it between her breasts against her heart. Jane waits for Maura to find words.

They sit there like that for so long that Jane wonders if the blond has fallen asleep. When she moves to pull her hand away, Maura's grip tightens and she whispers. "I gave away a kidney but I gained a heart. I've had everything I could have wanted my whole life. My parents indulged my eccentricities, Garrett showered me with gifts, Ian gave me stimulating discussion and intellectual challenge. You've given me all those things, plus yourself. No one's ever done that."

Jane gently tugs her hand away and then carefully pulls Maura into the circle of her arms. "I don't want to hurt you." Maura curls against her as Jane leans back into the pillows, completely relaxing for the first time since the surgery.

Just as Jane begins to drift off Maura speaks again, her voice murmuring quietly and reverently as if in prayer. "I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart. I am never without it. Anywhere I go, you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling…" It is lilting and lyrical and she is asleep before the poem is complete, her arms full of Maura and love and a future she never imagined possible.


End file.
